


what a bone of a time

by NERDHANDS



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NERDHANDS/pseuds/NERDHANDS
Summary: (redux.)And just like that, there's another skeleton in the house. They're taking this too well.





	what a bone of a time

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so, the first posting of this is screwed to high hell? Awhile back I tried to upload a chapter but I ended up deleting one instead and the other chapters rearranged themselves and I threw a fit and quit on it.
> 
> 'm not gonna delete it tho. i had some nice comments. I'll just re-write it here. The old one is shit anyway.
> 
> This first chapter is more or less the same.

     When he could manage to focus his eyelights enough to lessen the strain, there was a disturbingly familiar face hovering above his own. His head hurt like a bitch, so maybe he was seeing double— but of himself? No, a mirror then. But, they were lacking his clunky gold tooth and splintered cracks. 

         “man… boss musta slipped me some _good shit_." Even to his own ears his voice was a mess, words thickened and slurred.

     Uncertainty crossed his reflections face and while that wasn't an unusual expression, it didn't seem natural. Another face swam into his vision and it took awhile for that smooth jaw and high cheekbones to register before it sent him scrambling to make himself presentable. The world tipped dangerously as he made to sit up _ **—**_ had he been lying in someone’s lap? — and look around, hackles raised.

          “b-boss, oh, shit uh, _hey_. am i late?”

          “LANGUAGE!” Whoa,  _not_ boss. That octave was higher than usual, but somehow managed not to be as grating as he would think. “SANS, I, ER, _NOT_ -SANS, ARE YOU WELL?”

          His response is immediate, the words slipping from him before he has a chance to think them over. " _tibia_ honest, nah."

     Silence pressed down uncomfortably and sweat dotted his nonexistent brow. Well shit, huh? Just as fast as the unease had settled it was broken by an almost anguished whine and a low chuckle. An eerily familiar drawl piped up, white eyelights glancing over to him almost lazily. Yeah, that was him alright. Or he had a son somewhere.

          “ _heh_ , you should put more _backbone_ into your jokes.”

          “what can I say? I'm a bit _bone dry_." 

          “they’re still _humerus_.”

There's a clatter and they both look over to the taller skeleton. He looked torn between exasperation and worry, eyebrows pinched and a smile tugging at his teeth. Straight, flat teeth. Stars... “ _SAAAANNNSSSS!! STOP!!_ ” 

          “but bro," His doubles voice is thick with mirth and affection, as if they'd done this dance a thousand times over, "you’re _smilin_ ’.”

          “I KNOW, AND I HATE IT!”

          There was a comfortable pause where the brother's exchanged glances before the lanky skeleton’s curious attentions were solely on him, making him tense and wonder when he'd gotten so close. Oh shit, he **WAS** in someone’s lap, that someone being Papyrus - not his Papyrus he reminded himself, not his brother - practically straddling him now.

          “I AM GLAD YOU ARE WELL ENOUGH TO—" A grimace— “WORDPLAY, BUT ARE YOU _OKAY?_ WHEN WE FOUND YOU, UH-” Some squirming— “YOU, WE--”

          A hand settled on the fumbling skeleton's shoulder, and Sans felt his eyes drawn to his warped mirror image.  “what my bro is tryin' t' say is you were worked to the bone. literally. the porch is covered in dust and marrow. we had to take your clothes off to check the damage. paps could only salvage your jacket.”

         There’s a tense pause before the skeleton rolls his shoulders and cracks a clipped smile. "we, uh, couldn’t save your face. my good looks, down the drain.”

         Sans snorted and waved off the distraught noises coming from his live seat. “heh. these old things add to my rugged charm.”

               “BUT IT’S QUITE NEW, REALLY! AND IT, UH..”

          There’s another strained pause and he takes this moment to examine… Papyrus. He was quickly learning they were a fidgety guy, squirming underneath his weight in a way that Sans recognized as discomforted rather than him being heavy. Despite the lacking of eye lights, it was easy to tell how he averted his eyes from his own half lidded gaze as he twiddled his thumbs. A monster like this would've died a long time ago; he was free EXP.

        _ **(** _ Reminded him of himself. Heh. _ **)**_

               “it feels a lot like paps magic.”

               He cocked his head, coming back from his examination. “ hm? yeah. just a fight with boss. don’t you…?”

          Hell no. They were _smooth_. Well, his doppelganger seemed to be wilting and withering away, but the other skeleton was milk white and probably smooth as a baby bones. There wasn't a chip or hairline fracture in sight.

          How the fuck--

               “ _FIGHT?_ WHO IS THIS ‘BOSS?’ THEY DON’T SOUND LIKE A GOOD FELLOW, NOR SOMEONE WHO SHOULD BE IN A MANAGEMENT POSITION."

              Sans chortled. “ heh heh, it’s you! or, my version of you. “

          A surprised “ _NYEH_ ” softly filled the air and a sliver of guilt wormed its way into his ribcage as he saw the look of terror on the younger skeleton. Geez, the guy looked ready to cry. Christ, it wasn't that bad, he could barely feel it.

               “ hey, bo-- I er… ”

               “P-PAPYRUS IS JUST FINE! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AFTER ALL!” His voice had dropped with uncertainty and the guilt solidified. What the actual fuck. He hadn't felt this bad since boss had been little.

               “hey paps. i’m sure _i’d_ -” His double stepped up and wiggled nonexistent eyebrows—  “love some spaghetti right about now. whaddya say?”

          “ _NYEH!_ ” Holy shit, he was almost bounced right off his perch! That was, before hands gripped his hip bones and stilled him. He was shifted gently to the couch with a flurry of apologies before Papyrus was bounding from the room.

          He didn't realize how thick the tension in the room was until the bountiful soul had left. He was uneasy, near skittish as the situation was allowed to sink in. Sans could feel the eyes boring into the side of his skull and he was reluctant to meet them, but… he turned. Blank sockets greeted him, not a friendly eye light in sight.

               “ h-hey er, you guys are t-taking this pretty easy…? “ Now, he could blame his own reaction on shock.. Or maybe he was so lazy and worthless that he didn't care anymore. They probably wanted something and when he didn't give, they’d kill him anyway.

               His double seemed tired, bringing a hand to rub at his nasal aperture. “this isn't the first time this has happened, though none of them were beat up. you said paps did this? what the hell do you boneheads do over there?”

          A set of chuckles overlapped until one got stronger and stronger as it dissolved into hysterics and tears. Fuck, he was a mess. A confused mess. Was he dying?

               “ shit, i dunno... i’m just a 1 HP fuck off. boss has to toughen me up, s' I don't dust soon as 'e turns his back. “ Holy shit, what was he doing? If they didn't off him, he'd have to do it his damn self.

               “...is paps older?”

          Shamefully, Sans shook his head. His own little brother had to whip him into shape so he could protect and provide, and not even for him, but for himself. His baby bro cared so much… What was going on at home right now? He couldn't remember the last memory before this.

               “ _'m so tired_. “

               “NYEH! NEVER FEAR! AFTER A MEAL FROM THE GREAT PAPYRUS YOU CAN SLEEP!”

          This… Papyrus swayed into the room with a somehow clumsy grace, three plates and glasses balanced along his arms. He almost jumped up to help but his double gripped his sleeve. His short sleeve.

          What the fuck?

          Wait, yeah.. They took his clothes, right? He was wearing the same thing as the Sans from this— this world? Timeline? Universe?

               “HERE! THE GREATEST SPAGHETTI, MADE WITH LOVE!”

               “ l.o.v.e ** _??_** " He could feel his face contort and his soul clench as he rocked back into the cushions, " god, that's _sick--_ ”

               “nah, _love_. just plain ol’ paps love. thanks paps.”

          Sans took the plate with hesitance and glanced between the two. Papyrus was undeniably hopeful while the other was unreadable. They were just... _giving_ him food? What was the catch here? Worst case scenario, he died and hopefully ended up back home. With a shrug, he parted his jagged teeth and shoved a forkful of limp noodles into his mouth.

          ...it was indescribable.

               “taste the love, right?”

          He blinked and looked over; those eye lights were gone again and his double's permanent smile was strained.

               “ y-yeah-- “ And he wasn't lying. It refueled his energy and thrummed inside his bones pleasantly with what could only be described as a home cooked meal. This was love, huh? The soft, disgusting kind. “ i-it’s good.. it’s so good.. fuck, paps. “

          The curse went unnoticed as he choked down forkful after forkful, blubbering over the plate. Sans wasn't finished until he licked the ceramic clean with a swiftly conjured, forked tongue. He nearly asked for seconds before he noticed they were both none too discreetly ogling him and perspiration dotted his skull. Did he do something wrong? Were they waiting for drugs to take affect?

          If his other self was as good as masking emotions as himself, it was better to focus on Papyrus. Twitching hands removed the plate from his lap and he noticed the tremor and clicking of bones knocking together. There were orange tears dotting the younger eye sockets and he seemed unable to contain himself once their gazes met.

              “N-NO ONE HAS EATEN MY SPAGHETTI SO ENTHUSIASTICALLY BEFORE!” He seemed so unsure, as if he didn't understand if Sans had cried because of his meal or something else. “IT MAKES ME QUITE HAPPY. C-COME! IT’S TIME FOR BED!”

          A strangled noise left him as he was scooped up and it was only as he fought that he realized he could barely feel his legs and his vision swam. Conceding, he dropped his skull against a shoulder. What happened to him? And why were these versions so nice?

       The gentle motions of his brother's counterpart's rising and falling chest was nearly enough to send him under— Boss would be undeniably pissed with how lax he'd grown in this unfamiliar environment, but by Asgore's horns, if he had to die sometime soon, he'd prefer this plush place over anywhere else.

        That was what, the fourth or seventh time he mentioned dying?

         Maybe if he'd fallen asleep instead of allowing his thoughts to wander he'd be allowed to curl into the other monsters hold awhile longer, but he's shortly set down as they come to a stop outside Papyrus' opened bedroom door.

               " h-heh.. at least your room isn't as bare bones as boss'... "

          The responding groan that filled the room was welcomed, his grin almost broadening. It was a bad pun, half-hearted at most, but he adored it's acknowledgment nevertheless. While both versions of Papyrus reacted similarly, this... "softer" version responded with a fond annoyance if anything, a stark contrast to his brother's angry stomps and shrill yells.

          A rolling of the eyes **_(_** how did Papyrus manage that? **_)_ ** was warmly received over a cuff to the skull.

               "YOU CAN SLEEP HERE, BRO--YOU.. ** _!_** " This - _somehow more flamboyant_ \- version of his sibling posed, hand poised over his chest and hip cocked. "I'D GIVE YOU MY BROTHER'S ROOM SINCE IT’S SURELY LIKE YOURS.. BUT IT IS UNFIT FOR GUESTS! ONLY _THE GREAT PAPYRUS'_ ROOM IS ACCEPTABLE!"

          Well… damn. He scratched at his chest with obvious reluctance. Guess boss had drilled some manners into him after all.

            Papyrus was sacrificing his OWN comfort for HIM? Why? He wasn't worth the shit he was dressed in-- really, this was his doubles clothes anyway.

               " don't you prefer a bed, er, paps? " For those baby smooth bones. You didn't get those from a bad mattress.

               "NEVER FEAR! THE COUCH IS JUST FINE." That couch was fucking terrible and he only sat long enough to eat." BESIDES, I DO NOT ‘SLEEP!’ IT IS NOT ONE OF MY DESIGNATED REST DAYS! HOWEVER, I WILL SURE TO ASK TO BUNK WITH MY BROTHER IF I MUST!"

               " why not just sleep with me ** _?_** "

          The surprised look on the lanky skeleton's face was enough to send him stuttering and sweating, inching away from him. Shit, shitshitshit. That hadn't come out right.

               " i mean, fuck, uh, t-the bed just looks big enough! "

          A hand swatted at his shoulder, “SANS! LANGUAGE!”

          The scolding made his skull flush red, wishing he could duck beneath the fur lining of his coat, but his desire for comfort went ungranted.

               “I’D NOT WANT TO RUIN YOUR REST!” There’s a beat and he glances up just in time to watch that soft face soften impossibly further. “IF YOU ARE ANYTHING LIKE MY BROTHER AFTER A BAD DAY, I KNOW YOU NEED IT.”

          Shit man. This was a skeleton after his non existent heart.

               “I DO NOT APPROVE OF LAZYBONES, BUT PLEASE SLEEP! ONE OF SANS’ INFAMOUS 8-HOUR NAPS WILL HELP YOU!”

          Papyrus is crowding him suddenly, looming and poised over him and this is when he believes a price is going to be taken. Heh. “Kindness” wasn't free after all, huh?

          Something clinks against his forehead and his face flushes with shame as he comes to the realization that is was a simple skeleton kiss. Forehead against forehead, a cute thing you'd share with family. 

          He couldn't tell if that made him what to cry or run. When was the last time he'd been able to do that with his brother? Over a decade?

                It seems his discomfort was caught because the younger skeleton tipped back and wrung his gloved fingers apprehensively, not looking at him. “O-OH.. I SHOULD'VE ASKED, YES? I’M SORRY, I-IT’S HARD NOT TO TREAT YOU LIKE MY BROTHER EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE VERY DIFFERENT.”

          Sans waved a shaky hand, lying back gingerly on the race car bed. Shit he was right. Soft as fuck, just like this Papyrus. The sheet twisted easily beneath his phalanges and he felt just being on them was dirtying the sweet smelling fabrics.

               “ ...feels nice, papy. “

          The nickname seems to bring back that bright mood and he peeks at what the other has clasped in their hands. A book.

               "SANS ALWAYS READS TO ME BEFORE I SLEEP! I CAN'T DO THE VOICES AS WELL AS HE, BUT I CAN READ FOR YOU!”

          He blinked once. Twice. Uh. No? He wasn't a damn babybones. Was that an insult? One look showed this was more for Papyrus than himself.

               “ yeah… go ahead, papy. read me the best damn story i ever heard. “

          They’re not five lines in before he’s out cold.


End file.
